There was this tree in my back yard. I remember yelling over to mom, they saying, “We’re going outside.” She knew we really meant the tree.

When my sisters and I were younger, a tree was our special “hang-out” outside. We named it ‘The Game Tree,’ which was a perfect name.

Our tree got its name by the things we’d do. We would play ‘hide-n-seek!’ (The tree would be the best hiding spot.) We climbed it. And if we fell, its branches would save us so not to fall. One of my sisters said she saw angels going in and out of it. Every season the game tree would still be beautiful, bare or full with leaves.

Then, one beautiful spring morning, we got terrible news—our game tree had a disease. It was infecting the other trees, too. So my dad had to chop it down. We now knew our tree was gone.

Even though the tree had died, its memory, and our memories, live on forever! And if you look in my back yard, you can still see its remaining stump.

--Karina Magee